It was such an interesting experience to find myself in a losing position in my chess game with my Dad tonight.

I was assessing my options, and all I could see, through all the different possible moves I could make was carnage of my pieces on the board.

It reminded me of the exact sensation I get during a psychosis when I feel like any course of action will lead to my peril. The sensation was like ‘feeling stuck’, in space, because I had to make a move, and yet, everything was going to turn out poorly for my little chess team on the board.

In real life, there feels to be ‘more at stake’, during a psychosis when the repercussions feel a lot more dire. But my Dad suggested that if I keep playing chess, maybe I will get better at that ‘stuck’ feeling I can get when I am unwell. Maybe it will help me to throw my hands up in the air, and recognise that even though every direction I could take is laden with the certainty of peril, I could just take one step forward. Make one decision, and then see if I can’t make up some ground.